


Hurry Up and Be Quiet

by hug_it_out_boys



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Sam, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism Kink, Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt Dean, M/M, Top Dean, the boys trying not to get caught by John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-11
Updated: 2016-05-11
Packaged: 2018-06-07 19:50:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6821701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hug_it_out_boys/pseuds/hug_it_out_boys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boys try to take advantage of some "alone" time, despite John being in the next room.   Takes place some time after they find their father in Season 1.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hurry Up and Be Quiet

**Author's Note:**

> Come visit me at [tumblr](http://hug-it-out-boys.tumblr.com/)

The moment John had the motel room door unlocked and open, Sam stumbled in, his tired muscles bunching under the weight of his brother. 

“Get him to the bathroom and I’ll -” John began.

“I got ‘im,” Sam interrupted. He tightened his grip around Dean’s waist and steered him toward the bathroom doorway. 

“Sam, I can help,” John said wearily.

“I said I’ve got him,” Sam snapped out over his shoulder as he maneuvered Dean into the bathroom.

John held his hands up in resignation. 

"We need supplies?” John asked. 

“Need some more bandages,” Sam told him. "We used the last a couple weeks ago and never got around to getting more.“

Sam carefully guided Dean to the closed toilet seat and gently set him down with a grunt before flicking on the dim light over the sink. His brother discarded his jacket with slow and pained movements before leaning back with a sigh. He closed his eyes and stretched his left leg out gingerly. Sam shed his own jacket and tossed it to the floor before turning to grab the first aid kit off the counter. For once, he was thankful for his father’s obsessive organizational skills. 

John stepped into the room just long enough to drop a clean pair of Dean’s sweatpants on the counter top. He looked awkwardly around the room, as though he didn’t know what to do with himself. Sam blinked up at him.

"Guess I’ll go get some bandages,” John finally announced. He strode purposefully from the bathroom and within a few moments Sam heard the door of the motel room snick shut. 

Immediately, Sam relaxed. While he was glad that they had found their father, he always felt on edge with him around, itching for the next fight that would inevitably make an appearance. A surge of guilt moved through him as he looked down at Dean. His brother was never happier than when the three of them were together. Sam wondered, not for the first time, why he couldn’t feel the same way about the situation. 

After getting Dean to take some pain meds by bribing him with a swig of whiskey, Sam knelt down. He tugged Dean’s boots off before moving up to undo his brother’s jeans, his fingers moving deftly. 

“Always tryin’ to get in my pants,” Dean murmured. His eyes were closed and he was leaning back, a small smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. 

Sam grinned and shook his head in amusement. In a matter of seconds he had Dean’s pants discarded and was craning his neck to examine the gash on the calf of his brother’s leg. After tilting his head and squinting, Sam sighed in frustration and stood up.

“I can’t see a damn thing. I’ll be right back.”

“‘kay,” Dean mumbled.

Sam returned with a straight back chair that he set down across from Dean. Sliding onto the seat, Sam patted his lap.

“Foot up here,” he told his brother.

Rolling his eyes, Dean lifted his leg, wincing as he set his foot on Sam’s thigh. Sam worked quietly, disinfecting the deep cut and suturing carefully. As usual, Dean gritted his teeth and refused to make a single sound of discomfort. 

Finished, Sam moved out of the chair, arranging Dean’s foot on the seat so that his brother could lean back a bit without losing his balance. Sam reached over and ran his fingers lightly through Dean’s hair, looking for cuts and lumps. The wendigo had tossed him hard against the tree and Sam was hoping Dean didn’t have a concussion. 

“I’m fine, Sammy,” Dean grumbled after a few minutes of inspection. He tipped his head away petulantly and waved Sam away. 

Sam shrugged and put the first aid kit back where his father had left it. He turned back just in time to see Dean lean forward, his arm stretched out to swing the bathroom door shut and flick the lock on it.

“What are you doing?”

Instead of answering, Dean hooked his fingers in Sam’s belt loops and tugged him close. Sam looked down and huffed out a disbelieving laugh when his brother grinned up at him lasciviously.

“No way,” Sam said.

“Why not?” Dean asked sullenly, his mouth turning down into an exaggerated pout.

“Uh. One, Dad’s gonna be back any minute now. Two, you’re injured. Three, I’m not in the mood.”

Dean licked his lips and mulled over Sam’s points.

“Okay,” Dean finally replied. He looked up into Sam’s eyes and gave a cocky smile. ”One. This,” he pointed at the closed door for emphasis, “is locked.” 

"Two,” Dean continued. "My leg hurts a little and I have a bit of a headache. I think I can manage. Plus, my dick in your ass will make me feel sooo much better.” 

Sam rolled his eyes and crossed his arms in response. 

“And three.” Dean paused to lift the hem of Sam’s tee shirt and brush his lips against Sam’s stomach, letting out a warm breath of air that immediately raised goosebumps on Sam's sensitive skin. "I can totally get you in the mood, and you know it.“

Sam swallowed thickly and closed his eyes, trying to ward off the tickle of desire that flashed through his gut. 

Just as Sam was about to form a coherent, logical, and completely air-tight argument, Dean slid his hands around to the small of Sam’s back and rucked his shirt up higher. Trailing wet kisses up Sam’s stomach, Dean let out a low hum and massaged Sam’s back soothingly. Sam’s breath hitched when he felt Dean’s tongue flick out against his skin and his traitorous cock swelled inside his jeans. 

"Fuck, De-”

The sound of the motel room door being unlocked and opened made Sam freeze. 

Dean cursed softly as he pulled back, his hands sliding down to rest against Sam’s outer thighs.

“Sam?” John asked through the door of the bathroom. "Everything okay in there?“ 

The locked door handle jiggled a few times and Sam lurched forward, away from Dean’s hands. Quickly, he unlocked the door and opened it wide, letting his father see that there was nothing untoward happening. Not that his father would be looking really, but Sam’s paranoia was on high alert. 

"Everything’s fine,” he told John, his voice a bit higher than usual. He grabbed the bundle of bandages from his father’s hands and gave a quick smile of reassurance. "Just gonna finish up on Dean’s leg and then check him over. Make sure he doesn’t have a concussion. Clean out any head wounds. Wouldn’t, uh, want anything getting infected. You know. Just to be safe. We don’t need Dean getting sick or anything. Right?“

John’s lifted one questioning eyebrow at the rambling account and Dean gave a snort of amusement. It was the closest Sam had ever come to babbling in his father’s presence. Sam clamped his mouth shut. 

"Um. Okay,” John said slowly. ”I’ll let you get to it then.” 

Sam shut the door quietly and turned back to glare at his snickering brother. 

"Shut up,” Sam said, throwing a quick bitch face in Dean's direction.

“C’mere.” Dean grabbed Sam’s wrist and dragged him back to his earlier spot, Sam's crotch conveniently at eye level. Dean quickly undid Sam’s jeans and yanked them down over the curve of his ass. "Lock the door, sweetheart.“

Despite his misgivings and bristling at the pet name, Sam automatically reached over and turned the lock as quietly as possible. The television in the next room was turned on and Sam could hear the tinny sounds of gunfire. 

"Dean, I don’t-”

“Sammy,” Dean said, his voice clear but hushed. "We haven’t had any time to do this since Dad came back.“

Sam’s resolve began to falter. Dean was right. Between having their father moving them from one hunt to another without so much as a night off and hovering over them in the motels, he hadn’t been able to touch his brother or even steal a kiss, never mind actually have sex. 

Dean tugged at the front of Sam’s briefs and nuzzled the soft hair trailing down into the cotton fabric. 

"Miss you, Sammy,” he murmured, his lips brushing tantalizingly against Sam.

And that was it. He needed this as much as Dean did. It was now or … well, who knows when.

Sam pulled his jeans and underwear the rest of the way down, toeing off his shoes and kicking his clothing across the floor. He was only peripherally aware of Dean stripping his shirt and underwear off as Sam pulled his own shirt over his head. Dean looked up at him, and instead of the victorious grin Sam expected, he found half-lidded eyes filled with affection and desire. 

“Yeah,” Sam whispered, reaching out to cup his brother’s neck. "Miss you too.“ 

Sam leaned down, his thumb hooked beneath Dean’s jaw to angle his face up, and gave his brother a bruising kiss. 

Dean moaned quietly and let his mouth fall open, inviting Sam to lick his way inside. Sam closed his eyes and reveled in the taste of whiskey. Dean grasped Sam’s thighs possessively and maneuvered him as close as possible, his lips wrapping around Sam’s tongue and sucking it softly. Reaching down, Sam circled his hand around Dean’s erection. The familiar weight and heat of the cock in his hand had his own cock twitching against his stomach. It had been way too long and Sam was starting to feel lightheaded from the amount of anticipation Dean had ignited in his body. He gave one long, thorough stroke and groaned into Dean’s mouth when he felt his thumb glide through a trickle of precome. 

Sam broke the kiss and tried to catch his breath, pressing his forehead against Dean’s. 

"Get on my lap, Sammy,” Dean told him. 

“What about your leg?”

Instead of answering, Dean eyed the chair Sam had brought into the bathroom. 

“I got a better idea for that chair,” Dean said. 

Sam watched curiously as Dean leaned forward and turned the chair around so the back was facing him. 

“Now, get on my lap,” Dean repeated. 

Rather than arguing about it, Sam moved forward and started to straddle his brother’s lap, but made a sound of surprise when Dean grabbed his waist and turned him to face the chair.

“Like this, baby.”

Sam lowered himself slowly, pressing his forearms against the top of the chair’s back. He held his breath, waiting to feel the head of Dean’s cock press against his hole and was mildly confused when he felt a slicked finger there instead. He looked over his shoulder at his brother questioningly. Dean gave him a knowing wink and smiled.

“Snagged a packet of lube out of my jacket,” he explained. "It’s been three weeks, Sam. Gotta do a little prep or Dad’s gonna wonder why you can’t walk straight when we come out of this bathroom.“ 

Sam groaned and turned back to press his face against his wrist. 

"Please don’t talk about Dad right now,” he complained. 

Dean chuckled and gently pressed the tip of his finger inside. Sam closed his eyes and focused on the feeling, savoring the anticipation of having his brother inside him after weeks of going without. 

Within a few minutes, Dean had worked two fingers inside Sam and was fucking him slowly, barely grazing his prostate as he showered soft kisses against Sam’s back. Sam panted and thrust back, using his grip on the chair as leverage. He needed to get his brother to either move faster or replace his fingers with his cock.

Dean seemed completely oblivious to Sam’s plight and continued to move at a leisurely pace. Sam huffed in frustration.

“Hurry the fuck up, Dean,” he hissed. "We don’t have all frickin’ day. Dad’s gonna start wondering what the hell we’re doing.“

"Thought we weren’t supposed to talk about Dad right now,” Dean teased.

“Just shut up and fuck me if you’re gonna fuck me.”

“Okay, okay,” Dean grumbled as he removed his fingers. 

Sam listened to the sounds of Dean slicking his cock up and stroking it lazily.

“Dean.”

Dean gave a low growl and grasped Sam’s hips, pulling him back minutely.

“Hang on to the chair and keep quiet,” Dean ordered.

Sam gripped the back of the chair tightly and took a deep breath. When the head of Dean’s cock pressed inside, he bit his lip, fighting the sounds that bubbled up from his throat. The distant burn and stretch was overwhelming and he closed his eyes tightly. 

Dean paused, letting him adjust, but Sam was feeling the pressure of having someone in the next room. Someone that could very well start knocking on the door at any moment. With one quick movement, Sam slammed his hips back, taking Dean’s cock to the hilt. A short gasp of pain escaped from his mouth and his knuckles turned white against the chair. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Dean snarled. 

“Said we gotta hurry,” Sam gritted out between clenched teeth. 

“Hurry, yeah,” Dean said. ”But not tear your ass up.”

"I’m fine. You prepped me.” 

Without another word, Dean tightened his grip and lifted Sam’s hips, then lowered him gently, letting his cock stretch and fill Sam’s ass, the pain quickly fading into pleasure. Sam moaned and Dean shushed him softly. Soon, they had built up a rhythm, Dean pushing his hips up as Sam lowered his own. The slap of skin seemed to echo through the small room and Sam prayed that the television was drowning out the noise. 

Dean slid his hands to Sam’s stomach and stroked the tensing muscles as Sam threw his head back, his orgasm building already. He struggled to stay silent and wished that he was facing Dean, just so he could kiss the sounds into his brother’s waiting mouth. 

His only consolation was that Dean seemed to be fighting the same battle, his lips tightly pressed against Sam’s spine. Sam could feel the low vibrations of Dean’s moans and the sensation made him shiver. 

“Dean. Dean, I need-” Sam’s mind went blank and he gasped as his brother tilted his hips and nailed Sam’s prostate. 

“I know, Sammy, me too,” Dean panted out. 

A sheen of sweat broke out across Sam’s brow as he sped up, his ass bouncing up and down as Dean’s cock consistently hit every perfect spot inside him. He’d long since adjusted to the slick stretch and it now felt like heaven. He could feel his balls drawing up with anticipation as Dean pinched one of his nipples and rolled his hips upward. Dean let his hands fall to the top of Sam’s thighs and pulled him down hard, burying his cock inside his brother’s body over and over again, until they were both out of breath and gasping for air. 

“Sam,” Dean moaned out lowly just as he yanked him down roughly once more, digging his fingers into the flesh of Sam’s legs. Sam groaned quietly as he felt Dean coming inside him, his brother shuddering beneath him. Sam reached down and stroked his cock with one hand while he held onto the chair tightly with the other. Within seconds, his orgasm was overtaking him and he arched his back, only vaguely aware of come hitting his chest and his teeth grinding together in an effort to stay quiet. 

“Jesus, Dean.” Sam lean back dazedly against his brother. 

“Mhmm,” he hummed against Sam’s shoulder. 

A sudden knock on the door had Sam sitting upright, eliciting a hiss from Dean. 

“You boys okay in there?” John called through the door. 

They both froze, Sam astride Dean’s lap, Dean’s cock softening inside of him, and come oozing from his ass. 

“Yeah, everything’s good,” Dean called out. "I think Sam’s almost done mother-henning me to death.“

The silence from the other side of the door had them both tense and Sam felt as though his heart was going to shoot right out of his chest at any moment. 

Then John gave a soft chuckle and Sam felt Dean’s muscles relax beneath him. 

"Well, you know how Sam is,” John replied affectionately. 

They both sighed in relief as footsteps moved away from the door and the volume on the television was turned back up. 

“Oh my God,” Sam groaned. "We are never doing that again.”

He stood gingerly, grimacing as Dean’s cock slipped free and he noticed the cooling spunk on his chest. Wetting a washcloth, he cleaned the come from his skin as Dean grabbed a towel and wiped himself off. 

“Aww, c’mon, Sammy. The thrill of getting caught not doing it for you?”

Dean tossed the towel to the floor and leaned over to grab his underwear. 

Sam smirked, but didn’t answer. Dean looked up after a few moments and tilted his head at him. 

“Or is it?” Dean asked with a wide grin.

Still refusing to answer, Sam pulled his underwear and jeans back on before tossing Dean the sweatpants John had left for him. Dean laughed softly and they both finished getting dressed. Sam held out his hand to help Dean stand, but was waved away dismissively. His brother stood, favoring his leg only slightly. 

Just as Sam turned and unlocked the door, Dean stepped up behind him, his hands sliding across Sam’s sides and up his chest. His brother pressed his lips to the underside of Sam’s ear and dropped a tender kiss to the skin there. Sam smiled and allowed himself to lean back into the warm and quiet embrace for a moment before returning to the other room.


End file.
